St Albans
by Green Owl
Summary: Not enough room at the inn makes for interesting bedfellows.


"Whatta ya mean, they only got one bed!" Jayne barked at the inn clerk, mad as hell at the current state of affairs.

"I'm sorry, sir," the clerk replied, checking over the room reservations. "The Feds are having a convention on St. Albans right now and I'm afraid that all we have left in the hotel is a deluxe single with a king-sized bed."

He could've kicked himself. While the other members of the crew had made it back to the ship with plenty of time to spare, he had gone and done a fool thing in the name of coin and now he and that gorram girl were forced to take shelter in the only hotel within sprinting distance.

A group of purple-uniformed lawmen walked by and Jayne felt the girl flatten her shivering body against his and hide her face in his shoulder. Wincing as she dug her nails into his arm, he glanced out the transparent aluminum doors and wondered if they could make a break for it.

_Not a __ruttin__' chance in any one o' the seven hells._

The clerk looked up from the screen. "You could try another hotel, sir, but I'm sure all of them will be full as well."

_Of all the __gorrammed __ruttin__' mother-__humpin__' rotten luck! _

Getting' back to _Serenity_ was out of the question. It had been threatening' to acid-sleet something fierce all day and now, instead of letting up, the deadly precipitation was only getting worse. They were going to have to hole up for the night at this little pissant excuse for a hotel and wait it out.

"Shiny, _just_ shiny!" Jayne muttered, wincing as he dug into his pocket for the wad of cash he'd just won – he'd used that hand to cover the girl's head when it started coming down hard and the acid had given him a nasty burn. "We'll take it."

"Checkout is twelve noon, standard planet hours, Mr. Cobb," the clerk said as Jayne slapped a stack of credits on the counter with one hand and grabbed the keyknob the clerk handed over with the other. "Do you need a wake-up call, sir?"

"No," Jayne growled, taking the girl by the hand and heading for the elevators.

* * *

Jayne kicked the door shut, blindly tossed the keyknob onto the ratty excuse for a dresser and threw the remaining locks. He turned around, slumped against the door, bone-tired and cross as all get-out. "Listen up, girl, 'cause there's gonna be some rules 'round here! Number one: I paid for the room, so I get the bed. You take the floor." 

She nodded absently as she wrapped her arms around her waist, the motion making him lose his train of thought as he watched her nipples pucker against the fabric of her dress.

_Were it possible for a man to go all drool-some an' dry-mouthed at the same time?_

"Cold," River said, eyeing the thin carpet with hesitation.

Jayne groped blindly for the thermostat and adjusted the little plastic tab that controlled the temperature. He waited for some kind of heating apparatus to kick in but nothing happened.

_Ergo, __ruttin__' system was busted._ Go se_ piece o' Blue Sun '__lectronics/. __Girl'd __prob'ly__ freeze to death and who the hell was __gonna__ get us off-planet with Mal laid up in the infirmary?_

"Fine, you take the gorram bed and _I'll _sleep on the floor," Jayne said, zipping up his coat and opening the closet to look for extra bedding.

A gust of frigid, stinging wind whipped ruthlessly against the window and Jayne felt gooseflesh speckle his forearms as a sliver of it slipped inside the casement and robbed the room of what little warmth it possessed.

Oh, _hell_ no, he weren't sleepin' on no gorram floor with that skin-scarring sleet pelting the glass out there. _No __ruttin__' way!_

That left Option C: Sleep in the bed.

With the crazy girl.

Whose nipples were gettin' tighter every second that she stood there in her skimpy dress and poor excuse for a sweater.

_Fuck. _

Jayne wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and concentrated hard on doing the math: _girl an' sex equals __gettin__' spaced…sex an' girl equals __gettin__' spaced…__masturbatin__' an' girl equals __prob'ly __gettin__' spaced…_

"Rules?" she prompted, glancing at him.

Her eyes were glassy, Jayne's dependable indication that she prob'ly didn't know her _pi __gu_ from a hole in the ground right now, but she was fightin' hard to stay sane.

"New rule" – he stalked over to the bed and flung back the covers – "I get this side, you get that one an' we sleep 'til this here eerie-ass acid nastiness dies down."

She nodded and sank onto the bed so she could take off her footwear.

Jayne had shucked his coat and was toeing off his boots when he noticed she was still working at her own.

"What's takin' so ruttin' long?" he demanded, scowling at her.

"Hands don't work," she whispered, her teeth chattering. "Can't feel."

He sighed and circled around, dropping to his knees and batting her icy fingers away as he went to work on her boots.

River's ineffective hands hovered, her fingers interlacing for a brief moment before they separated and settled on her thighs. His fingers were quick, agile and so wonderfully warm she involuntarily gripped the fabric of her dress, inadvertently hitching up the hem on her skirt so that it slid from well below her knees to just above them.

Jayne's dexterous fingers would've made short work of the task but for the sight of all that pale, blue-veined skin that was near-to insisting he stroke it to see if it was really as silky as it looked.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and directed his gaze back to the buckles. "What sort o' genius killer-woman don't wear no coat when the weather forecast says 'expect lethal ice storm tonight', huh?"

"The sort that has always depended on the benevolence of badass mercenaries," she replied in a grateful whisper.

"Weren't nothin'," he muttered as he worked a set of buckles loose and pulled one freezing foot free of its boot.

"Didn't have to," she insisted. "Above and beyond the call of duty. And credits."

"Well, I always did love me a tussle." Jayne smiled tightly. "Stop squirmin', will ya?"

"Sorry."

Her hands clenched in her skirt again and the hem slipped a little higher, revealing the insides of her thighs and a hint of white cotton.

He bit back a groan. "Quit it!"

"Quit what?" she murmured in a mystified manner.

Jayne glanced up at her face, suspicion gnawing at his gut as he wondered what kind of nutty little game she was playing. All he could think about now was sliding his hands up her calves, past the back of her knees, and splaying his fingers as he smoothed his hands up, up, up to get himself a tactile assessment of the kind of unders a fancible Core girl like River Tam liked to wear.

_Ta ma de_, he must look like some big ol' pervy son o' a whore right now, lustin' like he was after the insides of her thighs while she just looked plumb confused.

Jayne pulled the other boot off and got to his feet, looming over her. "My blood's up somethin' dire after that bar brawl ya instigated, little girl, an' there ain't no gorram relief in sight, so stop showin' yer leg skin to me."

Her eyes and lips went round as she glanced down at the front of his pants. "Oh."

"'Oh' is right," he said, walking around to the other side and getting into bed. "I'm only keepin' an eye on ya 'cause Mal got shot. Ain't no one else can upthrust _Serenity_ an' we two can't make it back through that acid rain without gettin' some nasty disfigurement so as soon as mornin' comes, we're goin' back to the ship an' gettin' offa this vile sub-zero 'cuse for a moon, _dong ma_?"

She nodded and slipped under the covers, pulling them up to her chin as he turned off the light.

Jayne laced his fingers together on top of his stomach and closed his eyes, hoping his dreams were more virtuous than his current ponderings because right now all he wanted to do was unzip his pants and take care of himself…or have her take care of him…or they could take care of each other…or they could just go for it like a couple o' busy bunnies hopped up on love liquor…

But the girl was right next to him and she'd probably kill him with her brain if he tried it so he closed his eyes and did his best to conjure various non-sexin' thoughts.

_Mal an' __Inara __snipin__' at each other: yawn. _

_Wash an' Zoe __doin__' their kissy-face _go se_: ugh._

_Simon an' __Kaylee __playin__' __footsie...__ick._

It was working somewhat and Jayne was cheered by the thought that he might manage to make it through the night without doin' anythin' inappropriate.

There was silence for many long minutes as they lay there, both contributing body heat to the communal bed while remaining separated by the expanse of the mattress. Well, actually, he did most of the contributing. She was still trying to find a way to keep her teeth from chattering.

River flinched as she rubbed her feet against the backs of her slightly warmer calves; her toes felt like they had departed and took the front half of her feet with them.

"Stop twitchin'," he ordered in the darkness.

"Contrition," she apologized, sliding her hands under her backside to warm them. "Feet are cold."

"Yer fault for not wearin' enough clothes."

His body was putting out heat in radiant waves that made her want to move closer. "Jayne?"

He was annoyed. "What?"

"Can I…?"

Now he was irritated. "Can you 'what'?"

Her voice was soft and hesitant. "Can I warm them…on yours?"

"_No_," he snarled.

"Please?" she pleaded, her glacial toes craving his toasty warmth.

"No," he repeated firmly. "An' if ya try anythin' like that, yer sleepin' on the floor."

She chewed on her bottom lip, glaring at him in the darkness. _Miserly_ hundan

"Stop starin' at me."

"Not staring," she protested, turning her head to the other side of the pillow. "_Glaring_."

"Well, whatever it is, quit it. I had a really bad day an' yer not makin' it any better."

It was quiet again for a few minutes. Then River rolled onto her side to face him.

"Jayne?" she whispered.

"What?" he demanded tersely.

"I truly am sorry for delaying us," she said quietly.

He didn't say anything.

"And thank you for helping me to recover my credits," she continued.

He was still silent.

"I'm sorry for your hand getting burned," she added softly.

Jayne gave her his back as he rolled over onto his side. "Go to sleep, moon-brain."

* * *

Author's Note: 

This is the first part of a three-part story. Due to the **extremely **explicit nature of this tale, this story is presented in its entirety at Forecast: RAYNE under the author name "Green Owl" and my fan fiction livejournal, with directions on access below.

1. Go to greenowl99 livejournal com (replace each space with a ".")

2. Add a backslash, "/" if needed to the address.

3. Add "5925.html" for the first part (I: Deluxe Single, PG-13), "6301.html" for the second part (II: Big Spoon, Little Spoon, R) and "6600.html" for the third part (III: Say "Please", NC-17).

Green Owl


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